


A Bother of Beasts

by flightinflame



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Awkward Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Newt is a Dork, Niffler Choux, Nifflers, Protective creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Percival Graves would be interested in a relationship with Newt Scamander, and it seems Newt feels the same way.  It's just a shame that Newt's creatures seem to always be in the way.





	1. 1. The Niffler

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fantastic Coat Pockets and What You'll Find Inside Them](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999869) by [pinchess07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinchess07/pseuds/pinchess07). 



> Inspired by the amazing "Fantastic Coats and what you will find inside them" which made me smile and made me certain that Newt always has a lot of creatures on him.

The poachers had been apprehended and the creatures safely herded into Newt's case, so it was time to relax. Trying to be patient and more approachable, he had taken Newt to a local speakeasy - he didn't feel overly comfortable drinking somewhere public, but it seemed to be the right thing for Newt's sake. And he couldn't ignore that Newt seemed most uncomfortable when they were alone together, so going somewhere with other people around seemed only fair. He didn't want the other aurors he worked with to get the wrong idea about why he was inviting an attractive young consultant out for a drink, so a No-Maj speakeasy it was. He was talking to Newt about what had been happening recently in MACUSA since his return, and the young man seemed completely distracted.

Graves knew that Newt never found it easy to meet his eyes, but today he seemed more distracted than ever, squirming a little from where he was sat, his eyes seeming to dart everywhere other than Grave's face.  
"Are you alright?" He asked the magizoologist, trying to ignore the way that a faint blush had crept up on his cheeks, the way he was nervously chewing a lip. He wasn't going to jump to conclusions, assume that he understood what was going on. With Newt that could often horribly backfire. Newt had said before that for one of his creatures, he had to not be predictable. But Newt seemed to always do that.

Newt nodded rapidly, his hair falling forwards over his face, and he brushed it back quickly.  
"Yes Director Graves..." Newt's tongue flicked out and wetted his bottom lip, and Graves raised an eyebrow, trying to decide if the action was intentionally flirtatious or if Newt was just clueless about the impact he had on the other man.

"We've been through this. My name is Percival. You did really well today you know?"  
"Thank you Percival. I do try, and I am glad all the fwoopers are safe. I will take care of them." Newt murmured quickly, and his gaze appeared to have settled over Graves' left shoulder. His eyes looked intense, and it wasn't Newt's normal level of distraction - whatever was happening over there, it had distracted him completely.

Newt jumped to his feet and vaulted the table as Graves turned around and caught sight of a black shape diving beneath a table.  
"No you don't." Newt called out, racing through the room, seeming not to realise the chaos he was causing as he chased after whatever it was that had got out of his pocket this time.

Graves paused for a second, before deciding that Newt probably needed support. Even if he was entertaining when he couldn't handle things, Graves was aware that that wasn't what he should do - he was a representative of MACUSA, he couldn't have random magical creatures running loose in a bar. He didn’t want Newt to get into trouble either.

He dived after Newt, just as the other man slid beneath a table, and returned holding what could best be described as an oversized mole in his hands. It looked rather smug, until Newt held it upside down and began to tickle it. An avalanche of jewellery and coins slipped from it as it squeaked in distress.

This must be the infamous Niffler, the one that had caused chaos in a bank vault during Newt's last visit.  
"Put it away before it escapes again and I'll let this slide." He informed him, raising his wand and getting ready to obliviate any No-Majs who had seen what had happened. Newt thanked him and scurried away.


	2. 2. Pickett the Bowtruckle

Creeping up on Newton Scamander was apparently a terrible plan. 

Graves realised this far too late, but it was easy to underestimate the young man. He was foolish and playful, and he didn't look like he would be any trouble. He was easy to underestimate, even for those who should know better.

Newt had been helping with work at MACUSA for the past month, happy to be staying as he investigated local creatures and helped with any poaching cases. Graves was fairly sure that he had been flirting, but with Newt you couldn't be certain. He decided that he would have to make the first move, because Newt clearly wasn't capable of doing so.

It had taken him a long time to choose a flower, before he'd eventually settled on a pink rose - he had been able to engage Newt in a discussion about plants a couple of days ago, and had discovered that Newt didn't have any creatures that would be made sick by roses. So he picked one, and went to where Newt was sat at a desk, head forwards over a desk as he worked on some notes.

Graves reached forwards, bringing the rose into Newt's vision, and then stumbled backwards as something slammed into his face. He brought his hands up quickly, and felt something moving on his face, as something sharp viciously poked at his eyes/ He managed to dash the creature from his face, and it clung to his hand, its sharp legs and hands digging into his flesh. He yelped, waving his hand as he tried to free himself from the creature.

"STOP!" Newt shouted, standing and reaching out, carefully guiding the creature back to him, stroking a finger over its body as he examined it to ensure that there were no wounds anywhere. He cooed to the creature softly. "That was so brave of you Pickett, were you defending me? You are so wonderful and I am proud of you."

Graves frowned, bringing his hand to his face and feeling beads of blood that had formed from the attack, then saw the rose laying crushed on the floor. He must have trod on it in the distraction. 

Newt looked up at him, and flashed a nervous smile.  
"Sorry." He murmured. "Pickett here gets a little protective. Attachment issues..." He pressed a soft kiss to the creature's forehead. "Was that flower for me?"  
"Yeah." Graves sighed. "Sorry. Dumb idea."  
"It wasn't dumb." Newt answered, crouching down and picking up the flower. "Pickett here loves rose petals." He began to feed Graves' gift to his living twig. But he flashed Graves a brilliant smile, so Percival wondered whether maybe it hadn't been a complete failure.


	3. 3 Basilisk

Graves was forced to deal with Newt again sooner than he would have liked, when an emergency hit the New York sewers. A basilisk sighting. He'd organised everyone to be cleared out before anyone died, and had the aurors guarding the entrances to the area it was in. But he knew this was an emergency. A magical creature with a fatal stare slithering through a major city.

He'd sent Tina to find the Magizoologist, and when the two of them returned, he looked at Newt coldly.  
"This better not be one of yours."  
"Tina said it was a basilisk." He said quickly. "I have never seen one. They are a magically produced creature, they..." He shrugged and shook his head. "But I know the theory. We're going to need a cockerel on the off chance I can't get it into the case, and everyone needs their eyes covered with dark glasses."  
"You aren't putting it into your case." Graves said, voice firm as horror bubbled inside of him. Keeping a basilisk in a box was definitely one of the worst ideas he had ever heard, and being director of security meant he heard a lot of absolutely terrible ideas.

"Let me try."  
"This is ridiculous. I don't want anyone throwing their life away over this."   
"Just let me see. I'll approach from the tail. It'll be big enough it can't turn quickly, and I'll be able to cast a barrier. I’ll even wear dark glasses." Newt glanced up at him, and Graves shivered at the look in Newt's eyes. "Please."

"I'm coming with you." Graves insisted, and Newt relaxed just a little, seeing it for the permission that it was.

***

"What I don't understand," Newt mumbled as he carefully made his way through the water that lapped at their feet, his voice echoing off the walls of the sewer. "Is how a basilisk could even get into the sewers. If someone has created one, I'd expect them to take better care..."

Graves stayed quiet, listening, and froze when he heard something splashing ahead, and then a sharp chirrupy noise. He glanced towards Newt, heart racing, and was surprised to see how widely Newt was smiling.  
"Oh." Newt chuckled and removed his glasses. "Oh dear, yes, I can see how this would have happened..."  
"What?" Graves hissed, and Newt merely shook his head and smiled, racing forwards. Graves chased after him, struggling with the case.  
"Scamander." He tried to call. "Newt, stop it!"

He was shocked when he turned the corner to find Newt running a hand down the side of the huge snake that filled the entire sewer pipe, glinting in the partial light. It was a strange purple blueish hue, which surprised him. He had heard that they were always a dark green.   
"Newt?" He asked softly. "What's happening?"  
"It's just a baby." Newt murmured. "Poor thing must be so frightened."

"It's still a basilisk Newt. Baby or not, it could be lethal. We can't keep it."

Newt turned towards him and smiled.   
"It's not a basilisk." He was still stroking the creature, walking along its length, humming softly and letting out occasional chirruping sounds. "But I will need you to find some kind of container. Not the case."

Graves looked around in confusion. "I've got a pocket, that's about it."  
"Does it button?"  
"It does."  
"Then that's enough. Now, I want you to put my case into muggle mode, and at the top there are a few treats, now pick out the orange cockroach." 

Graves followed his instructions, picking out the roach from among Newt's clothes.  
"Now, put it in your pocket."  
"What?" Graves asked, even as he did what he was told. This was Newt's area of expertise.

"It's an Occamy... poor thing, it must be so cold..." Newt had reached the midpoint of the snake now, and let out a strange series of whistles.

The snake moved, untwisting and turning around, then starting to speed towards Graves.  
"Hold the pocket open." Newt demanded, and Graves obeyed, watching as the snake-thing jumped at him, shrinking before his eyes. It became impossibly smaller as it approached, until it landed as a cold weight in his pocket.  
"Well done." Newt flashed him a smile. "Now, it needs body heat to keep warm, at least until its back to full health, so you can keep it for the moment, name it if you want, they like that. There you go. No basilisk. I told you there was no way one could get into the sewers."

Graves smiled back, leaning in to brush Newt's hair from his face, then pausing as he felt the Occamy chick squirm in his pocket. He pulled his coat closer to help keep it warm.  
“I’ll call him Basil.”


	4. 4. Demiguise

It became clear some time after the not-a-basilisk incident that Newt's interpretation of "Magical creatures are not allowed in the country" was "magical creatures should be kept in the case most of the time, with the exception of Pickett who functions as a defence and gets clingy if separated". And when Newt relaxed, that definition got stretched further still - it became common to see Diricrawls popping in and out of visibility in the tea room, and the Niffler was a pest to the extent that several floors of MACUSA had invested in anti-niffler charms.

Graves would have called Newt out on this, but he was very aware of Basil's weight in his own coat pocket. Newt checked on the small occamy every few hours, and Graves was happy enough to fish him from the warmth of his pocket as long as he cradled him carefully in his hands.  
"Here he is."  
"He's looking much healthier." Newt said. "I don't believe it will be too long before he is able to meet the other occamys I have... poor dear, he must have had quite the life."  
"I still don't understand why he was in the sewer." Graves pointed out as he carefully returned Basil to his pocket, and fed him a cricket for good behaviour.  
"Their eggs are made of silver. People breed them, and kill the males, keep the females for more eggs..." Newt explained, and Graves sighed, dropping another cricket into his pocket.  
"We'll find out where they are and get them to safety." He told Newt. Newt looked at him and smiled, and Graves smiled back. There was a sudden crash out in the corridor, and Newt paled and ran away, yelling an apology as he went and then reprimanding the damn niffler - who had recently taken a liking to gloves and scarves of all things.

Graves found himself despairing of almost all of Newt's creatures, but he couldn't help having a certain fondness for Dougal. Mostly because it felt like Dougal was on the same side as he was - when the demiguise left the case, it was either to chaperone wayward beasts, or to remind Newt to eat and drink. Apples and other treats often floated towards Newt, and Newt would grab them from the air with a word of thanks.

So Graves was quite flattered when one day, an apple floated towards him while he sat at his desk. After a second, Dougal appeared beside it, holding the apple towards him, and chittering softly.  
"Thank you Dougal." He murmured, taking the apple and enjoying the taste. The demiguise had fixed its brilliant blue eyes on him, and was frowning a little. Percival remembered what Newt had said - that this creature could see the future. He tried not to worry.

It chittered at him, and rocked its arms, as though soothing a baby. Graves wondered if it wanted Basil, but as he watched it continued to chitter, bouncing slightly and clicking its teeth. It was then patting the air, and pointed at the apple, and chirruped again.

Graves nodded slowly. Then the creature's eyes flashed, and it mimed scratching at something before it. Then its lips drew back and it snarled, exposing dangerous teeth. Then it shot another smile at Graves and rocked its arms again.

Graves swallowed dryly. He was familiar with this dance, even if normally it had a lot more words to it.  
"You want me to look after him?"  
The demiguise nodded.  
"And if not you're going to attack me?" He guessed, and again the demiguise nodded, then climbed up onto the table and patted him on the head twice.

Graves gently shooed the creature back to the other side of the desk.  
"That seems reasonable. Thank you for letting me know." The demiguise squeaked and climbed down from its chair, and Graves watched as he headed towards the door. There was a knock on the door just as it reached it, and it turned invisible.  
"Come in."  
Newt's head stuck around the edge of the door and he smiled awkwardly.  
"I don't suppose you've seen Dougal have you? He was meant to help me feed the mooncalves."  
"Right in front of you." Graves muttered, and Newt smiled again, leaning down so that Dougal could climb into his arms.

Graves watched the door closed, and patted the pocket where Basil was sleeping.  
"We really will need to get you back to your own kind soon." He murmured, leaning back against his chair, then realising with a jolt that his scarf was gone. 

That damn niffler.


	5. 5. The Fwooper Chick

Having been threatened by the Demiguise, Graves decided it was the closest to permission to date Newt he was going to get. It was clear that just flirting with the other man was ineffective, so he was going to talk to him about it. He made his way over to the desk Newt had invaded, and placed down a cup of tea for him. 

“Hello.” Newt said softly, smiling up at him as his attention was dragged from the draft he was working on. He had been sketching a brightly patterned egg that was serving as a paperweight. “It’s good to see you Direct-Graves. Thank you for the tea.”  
“You’re welcome.” Graves smiled, sipping his own coffee. “I wondered if you fancied meeting up later for coffee?”   
“Can I have tea?”  
“You can have tea.” Graves agreed fondly. “But I wasn’t just asking for coffee. I was asking for a date.”  
“As long as I can have tea instead of coffee.” Newt smiled at him, and Graves watched as Pickett clambered from his desk and rolled the egg around carefully so that Newt could draw the other side. “How is Basil today?”  
“Sleeping…” Graves murmured. 

“He could go back with the others if you wanted him to.” Newt said softly, and Graves shook his head.   
“I think I’d best keep an eye on him for a little longer.” Graves answered, and Newt’s smile was fond.   
“I think so. He seems to like you. I’ll see you later?” Newt queried, and Graves nodded, returning to his desk, leaving Newt to his sketching. 

He collected him at the end of the day, seeing Newt pocketing the egg and leaving his sketches on the desk.  
“I found a good No-Maj café, they do tea. I asked earlier, and they have imported tea from England.” Graves explained, and Newt beamed at him, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I know you hate the coffee in the canteen.”  
Newt bounded from his seat, and gripped Graves’ hand.

Graves lead him to the café. It wasn’t far from MACUSA, and it was somewhere he was used when he wanted to relax. And Newt did seem relaxed. He was smiling as he drank his tea, quick to reassure Graves that this tea at least had been preferable to that the canteen served. Graves spoke to Newt quietly, asking questions about his creatures, enjoying the way that Newt’s eyes sparkled when he spoke about his precious creatures. When it was time for Newt to return to the Goldstein’s, Graves walked him back, standing with him on the doorstep.

“I had a lovely time today.” Newt said softly. He leaned towards Graves, and Graves leaned in to close the gap between them. There was suddenly a high pitched noise breaking through the air, a scream louder and more painful than any he had heard before. Fighting the urge to cover his ears, he grabbed out his wand and turned to Newt, ready to defend him.  
Newt shook his head, crouching down to pick a small thing from his pocket, pointing his wand to it and whispering a silencing charm. The noise stopped, and Newt smiled a little awkwardly.  
“Sorry…I… I hadn’t expected it to hatch until tomorrow.” He opened his hand to reveal a small ball of pink fluff. “It’s a fwooper, they’re really quite good pets as long as you keep them silenced.” He paused, glancing between the door and Graves.   
“I’d best go inside. They’ll be waiting for me.” With that, he apparated away.

Graves reached into his pocket to check that Basil was still in place, and reluctantly walked back home.


	6. +1 The Nifflers

It turned out that trying to arrange a date with Graves without the creatures getting in their way was fairly difficult. It wasn’t an issue Newt had encountered before, because no one had wanted a relationship, but it was clear Graves did. And Newt wanted a relationship in return. Newt felt rather guilty for getting distracted so easily, but he also loved his creatures and couldn't easily abandon them. At least Graves seemed to have a degree of understanding, because of Basil. 

Newt had never expected to meet someone who understood his love of animals, but Graves at least seemed supportive of his work. Newt was helpful for MACUSA, and beyond that Graves seemed to get on well with most of the beasts, even keeping the occamy he had rescued in his coat pocket. After the fwooper incident, Newt had been worried, but Graves was as calm and in control as ever. He wouldn’t remove the chick as long as it was kept silenced.

Newt had realised then that trying to leave his case behind and go on a date was bound to be a disaster. It was Queenie who had suggested the alternative - that he should invite Graves for a date in the case. Not the largest place, but given the problems with the alternative he was happy to offer, and relieved that Graves had accepted.

So here they were, standing on the rim of the case, Graves smiling at him. Tina and Queenie had gone out for a walk to give them some privacy, and Queenie had left a box of pastries on the kitchen table.  
"Thank you for this dir-"  
"Percival." Graves said firmly, and Newt nodded, feeling a flush of colour creeping up his neck.  
"Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming Percival, they are all quite excited to meet you."  
"And I them... although of course, some of them already know me." 

Newt realised at that moment that Percival wasn't wearing a scarf.  
"The niffler?" He asked, gesturing up at Percival's neck and flinching slightly at the nod he got in return. "I'm sorry. I really don't know what's got into her..." Newt mumbled, not mentioning that he liked the smell of Percival's scarves, had borrowed one from then niffler nest to keep him warm in the winter.

"Don't worry." Percival looked down into the case a little reluctantly. "You sure they aren't all lying in wait?"  
"They like you." Newt told him firmly. "Anyway, they know you're my ma-friend." He felt his blush darken. "They wouldn't harm anyone I care about."

With that, Percival clambered down the ladder. Newt paused at the top, trying to remember what he had forgotten. He was sure there was something he should have with him - the pastries! He raced across to the kitchen, gathering up the pink box. It slipped from his hands and a handful of pastries escaped, sugar-coated choux pastry nifflers scurrying in all directions.

Newt scrambled after them, fishing one out from under the cupboard and another from under the table, dusting each of them off with a quick spell. Two to go. One was on the worktop, rolling in some sugar. Newt crept up on it carefully before pouncing and shoving it back into the box to join its siblings. One more. His gaze scanned the room, and he felt himself blush at the thought of dropping into the case to explain he had been bested by some pastries. He stood silently, eyes scanning the room for any sign. A dusting of sugar floated through the air, and he looked up, finding a pastry niffler clung to the light fitting. 

Feeling frankly ridiculous, Newt jumped up and caught it, cleaned it with a flick of the wand and shoved it back in the case, then wiped a hand across his forehead.  
"Sorry!" He called out, before beginning to clamber down inside the case, box balanced in one hand. He paused when he got to the bottom of the stairs, staring at what was ahead of him.

Percival was lying on the ground beside the niffler nest, the niffler itself resting on his lap as he ran his fingers gently over her stomach. He had taken off his coat. The occamys had slid from the nest and were draped across his legs, while Basil was around his neck as a scarf. Several bowtruckles were leaning in for a look.

Newt felt a wave of relief sweep through him to see that his mate had been accepted by his creatures. As he watched the tiny fwooper chick bobbed through the air, wings too small to support its round little body. It landed on Percival's head and settled there.

Newt didn't think he had ever seen a sight so beautiful.  
"Hello..." He greeted them all. "I think they like you..."  
Percival nodded, not looking up from the niffler on his lap. As he got closer Newt could see that the niffler was resting on his coat, his scarf and a few other pieces of fabric piled around her.

"I brought cake." Newt murmured, putting the box down and charming it to hover out of the way of the creatures. "You made a friend?"  
"She's having nifflings." Percival murmured, and Newt watched in awe as three tiny heads poked out from the niffler's pouch.  
"Puggles actually..." Newt stared softly. "She's a monotreme. They must have just hatched, I didn’t realise that she was laying..." He smiled at Percival. "I'd best get these little guys checked over, young nifflers can be prone to infection. Sorry to postpone again..."  
Percival smiled, tickling the niffler fondly.  
"I think I can cope."

Eventually, they managed a date. The problem was the next morning when nifflings one and two ran off with one of Percival's socks each. Not to be outdone, niffling three ran off with his underwear.


End file.
